


I Know You (you are a part of me)

by raiining



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Gen, M/M, badboy! Phil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-11
Updated: 2014-04-11
Packaged: 2018-01-18 22:36:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1445359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raiining/pseuds/raiining
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Separation can be dangerous, is always painful, and sends more people to psych than Operational Command and Helicarrier duty combined.  Clint's understandably nervous about being recommended for the program.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Know You (you are a part of me)

**Author's Note:**

> As always, huge thanks to Ralkana for being the Best Beta Ever. Thank you, bb!
> 
>  
> 
> Here's the link to foxxcub's wonderful daemon primer: http://foxxcub.livejournal.com/405341.html
> 
>  
> 
> And for your reference:
> 
> “Suiee” (pronounced soo-ee): common kestrel  
> (from: http://monacoeye.com/birds/index_files/category-kestrels.php?btypes )
> 
>  
> 
> “Raiena” (pronounced ray-en-a): American mink (black)  
> (from: http://www.dreamstime.com/stock-photo-black-mink-eat-dry-food-image22123820 )

When Phil opens the door to his office at the end of the day, he's not surprised to find Clint and Suiee waiting for him.

Or waiting for _them_ , most likely. Phil brushes his hand over Raiena’s head, waking the sleeping mink from her position on Phil’s shoulder. As a daemon, she’s not actually nocturnal, but she does like to nap when she can. 

The meeting with Agent Briss was long and painfully boring. Phil wishes he could have slept through it, too.

“Did you bring your report on Mexico City?” Phil asks, stepping inside. He doesn’t think their latest op is why Clint and his daemon are here, but it never hurts to be sure.

Surprisingly, Clint pulls a couple of dog-eared pages from his jacket. “I did. I’m sorry that it's so late. That's not, uh, what I wanted to talk to you about, though.” He runs a hand through his already messy hair, wincing when he hits the stitches. “I wanted to – well,” he corrects, glancing at his daemon, “ _we_ wanted to – that is…” 

Phil tries to keep his voice professional, but he’s always had a soft spot where Clint Barton is concerned. “You wanted to ask why I recommended you for separation training?”

Clint shifts on the couch, looking relieved that he doesn’t have to say it out loud. “Yeah.”

Phil nods. He pauses to close his office door and glances at Clint’s daemon. In many ways, the test starts now. To even talk about separation is a huge hurdle for many people, and whatever decision is made needs to be unanimous between human and daemon. If it isn't, the lack of trust will rot them both from the inside out.

Phil is sad to say that he's seen it before. He doesn't want that to happen to Clint, even though he doesn't think it will. Clint and Suiee have been through at lot together, more than most agents Phil recommends for the program. There's no way they would have survived had they not learned to talk to each other by now.

The common kestrel looks the same as she usually does, quiet and watchful from her place on Clint's shoulder, but there's a ruffle to her feathers that suggests she's at least as discomfited as her human is. 

Phil glances at Raiena as he turns his guest chair around. His daemon nods, and Phil knows that she's still okay with whatever he decides to reveal. Of the two of them, he's always been the more cautious, but there's something about Clint Barton that brings out Phil's trusting side. 

Maybe it's because Clint hasn't had enough people who've trusted him in the past, and Phil wants to give him that chance. 

“There are many reasons I could give you,” Phil begins as he sits facing Clint and Suiee on the couch, “the majority of which I’m sure you’ve thought of yourself. Separation is a useful skill to have in the field. Daemons can carry messages, track the position of enemy agents, and function as a beacon if something goes wrong. I won’t deny that what happened in Mexico City was a driving force behind my recommendation that you be considered for separation training.”

Clint winces. Phil wants to do a lot more than that. He'd approved of the jump that had sent Clint leaping onto a train full of Hydra weapons. Clint had freed the hostages, but had been thrown off the train somewhere along the tracks. His comm. signal had been lost just as the train had exploded, and Phil knows the memory of Clint’s blinking dot disappearing from his screens will haunt him until the end of his days. It’d taken half the night and a team of experts to finally locate Clint and bring him home. 

“I’m sorry, boss,” Clint says. 

“I know you are. It wasn’t even your fault, but it can’t be denied that had Suiee possessed the ability to fly back and find me, we could have gotten to you a lot sooner.”

Clint nods. “I know. I also know that most level seven’s are separated, especially field agents, and that if I want to advance in the organization, it’d be a good skill to have, but, sir…” He swallows and trails off. 

Phil nods. “I understand. Separation can be a frightening thing to contemplate.” Raiena's tail caresses the back of his neck, both a reminder and a comfort. “Would it help you to know that I was terrified?”

Clint looks up, relief evident on his face. “You were?”

“We both were. It was…” He trails off, glances towards his daemon, and makes a face. He's never actually shared this story before, not with someone who didn't already know the details. 

Raiena nuzzles his cheek.

Phil nods and takes a deep breath. “I'm not sure if you're aware of this,” he says to Clint, facing him and Suiee once more, “but my juvenile record is actually longer than yours.”

Suiee’s eyes go wide. She hops, hovering for a moment the way only a kestrel can, before landing on Clint’s shoulder again. Phil knows why many people confuse her with a hawk, but he’s never been one of them. 

Clint just stares. “What? No.”

Phil chuckles. “Oh, yes. Though to be fair, most of your crimes were committed after you left the circus, when you were legally an adult, while I, on the other hand, started early.”

“What did you – ” Clint blinks. “ _Why_ did you – ?”

Phil shrugs, not quite feeling as sanguine as he tries to appear. “I was sixteen. My father had died three years before and my mother had begun dating again. I was angry, resentful… It started with simple things like smoking with friends after school and failing my classes, but things escalated from there. It wasn’t long before we progressed into genuine criminal behaviour.”

Phil keeps his calm façade only through extensive practice. He’s prepared for a number of possible reactions, but Clint still surprises him when he chuckles. It’s not an angry or mocking laugh, either. He sounds genuinely amused. “You can’t do anything without being good at it, can you, sir?”

“I would argue that it was more throwing myself headlong into something that provided a halfway decent distraction rather than a manifestation of genuine talent, but by the time we got ourselves straightened out, we’d amassed a rather a significant car-jacking empire, so I won’t argue the point.” 

Suiee ducks her head in what Phil thinks is her equivalent of a smile. 

“Anyway,” Phil says, doing his best to shift the discussion back to the topic on hand, “suffice it to say that it became clear to us that what we were doing was not in our best interests. Raiena had taken the form of a polecat for a number of years and most everyone assumed that she’d settled. We were almost eighteen by then, but we didn’t feel right in our skin. Something was wrong, and it only got wronger the longer things went on. It didn’t matter how many laws we broke or how many things we destroyed – nothing seemed to help.”

Clint watches him. His smile has dimmed but his attention is focused. He tracks Phil with a keen gaze that Phil knows will see more than Phil’s ever shown him before. On Clint's shoulder, Suiee is standing statue-still.

Phil takes a deep breath. “So we decided to separate. We didn’t make the decision lightly; we thought about it for a number of weeks. It became clear to us, though, that something needed to change. We had to _do_ something to try and fix the wrong feeling inside of us. We had to somehow make things _right_.” 

“How could you separating from your daemon magically make things better?” 

Raiena’s whiskers twitch. Phil smiles. “It was the idea of a challenge we could take on together, something that would prove that we could depend on each other, even when our world had been turned upside down and nothing around us was making sense.” 

Clint doesn't look convinced. “What happened?”

Phil shrugs. “We separated. I was terrified. We’d talked it over so many times that I was beginning to doubt we'd ever go through with it, but then…” He hesitates. “Something happened. Something that frightened us. Whatever the risk, we decided we needed to change.”

“What happened?”

Phil swallows. Even now, the memory is enough to sicken him. He rubs his fingers together, almost surprised he doesn't feel the tacky stickiness of blood.

“I'm sorry,” Clint says quickly, leaning forward. “I didn't – it's obviously extremely personal, sir. I shouldn't have asked. You don't have to answer.”

Phil nods. “Thank you. I _will_ tell you, someday, but not today.” Someday when Clint’s not sitting right in front of him, when he doesn’t have to watch the respect fade from his eyes. Phil clears his throat. “Anyway, it became clear to us that something needed to change. That _we_ needed to change. We decided to go through with it.”

He can see the question on Clint’s tongue, watches the way he bites his lip to hold it in. Phil takes pity on him. “Where did we go?”

Clint nods.

“We used a sanctioned separation lot. My father had connections within the FBI. Even though he was dead, I managed to learn the location of one of their training camps. We snuck into the facility in the dead of night, took a deep breath, and started walking.”

The moon had been so bright. Phil can still remember every step he took. He'd felt like he was going to die. “It hurts,” he admits to Clint. “It feels like nothing you've ever experienced before. Even I'm not cleared to know what's scattered inside a separation lot, but suffice it to say that whatever it is, it's not a common material. The ground we used had only a thin layer spread across a specific area, and it required both of us walking in opposite directions to accurately stretch the bond.”

“So it doesn't break? Not really?”

Phil shakes his head. “It feels like it will. I won't lie and say it doesn't for some people. Everyone’s heard the horror stories. If you do it properly, though, if you're prepared, if you've talked to each other and have come to the decision as a unit, then you know at the end that you're going to make it through. It is an incredible thing to experience, to get to the finish line and realize you can still feel each other, to know that your bond is stronger than ever because you’ve weathered such a storm.”

Phil takes a deep breath. “It's not for everyone, Barton. You're able to give up at any time. Agents are restricted to one attempt per year and three attempts per lifetime, in an effort to reduce the amount of psychosocial stress, but there will be no reprimand in your file if you fail.”

Clint nods. The look in his eye is far away, but when he speaks, he speaks to Phil. “Sir, you said, when you started, that your daemon had taken the form of a polecat?”

Phil smiles. “I did. Everyone had assumed that she'd settled, but we knew something wasn't yet right. Raiena remained a polecat until after we’d completed the separation training, but when we were reunited, she changed for the final time.” Phil reaches up and rubs his fingers along the soft luxuriousness of her black fur. “The mink and the polecat are close relatives, and have a number of characteristics in common. They are small, nocturnal predators, and hunt a variety of game. The mink, however, is more versatile, is adapted to both terran and aquatic environments, and is more likely to be active during the day.”

“They're also more beautiful.” The words are quiet, but once they’re out, Clint blushes.

Phil can’t disagree. “I think so, too.” Raiena is remarkably beautiful. Phil’s aware that's a potentially vain thing to say about one’s own daemon, because Raiena is technically a part of him, but it doesn't feel like a bad thing to admit. She _is_ beautiful, her soft, rich black fur a counterpoint to her beady, intelligent eyes. 

They are happy like this, settled in this form, and Phil knows that separation is one of the best things they've ever done for themselves.

“That’s my story, at least. I understand that separation is different for everybody. The key is that you both need to think about it and discuss a reason to attempt it or not, together. That is the most important thing. Whatever you decide, you must decide it _together_.”

It's bad manners to address another person's daemon directly, but Phil catches both their eyes for a heartbeat. He knows that on his shoulder, Raiena is doing the same. 

Clint and Suiee nod together. “We understand, sir,” Clint says.

“Do you have any more questions, Agent?”

Clint starts to shake his head, but stops. “No – yes. I mean,” he glances at his daemon, then bites his lip when she chitters her beak in an expression Phil doesn’t know her well enough to translate. “We just wanted to say thank you, sir, for taking the time to explain your experience to us.” Clint looks at Phil and meets his eyes. There's a faint blush staining his cheeks, but his gaze never wavers. “It means a lot to us.”

Phil smiles. “I hope it was useful, Barton.” He knows he doesn't need to ask that they keep this conversation private. He trusts Clint and his daemon, enough to both share his and Raiena’s experience with them, and to recommend them for separation training. “I'm always available if you need anything.”

He’s said that to Clint before, but he thinks Clint understands that he means it, now. “Thank you, sir.”

“Good afternoon, Agent.”

He stands and holds the door open for them, and Clint doesn't glance back as he leaves. Suiee does, though, looking over Clint's shoulder to meet Phil's eyes for a second before dropping her gaze to Raiena. The two daemons stare at each other. Phil thinks they're smiling.

“I like them,” Raiena says, once the door is closed and Phil’s back at his desk. 

“I like them, too,” Phil confesses. 

He does.


End file.
